


Spy AU

by moodymarshmallow



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 07:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2016345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodymarshmallow/pseuds/moodymarshmallow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders might not be a very good spy, but he knows someone who is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spy AU

Smoke hung in the air even thicker than the jazz, and though the sign outside was emblazoned with a cigarette inside of a red, crossed circle, Anders had just seen the bartender light up a cigar. He rolled his eyes. Between the dim, flickering lights, and the San Francisco-fog-thick smoke, there was no way he was going to get a good look at who his mark was meeting with. Another wasted evening he could have spent tailing that cheating husband for the sweet thing with the gold lip stud.

"You're going to be so happy with me you'll kiss my feet." The voice was familiar enough that even if Anders had missed the redhead sliding into the booth across from him, he would have recognized it as that of Theron Mahariel, a man who, despite his striking features and tendency to turn up wherever Anders went, didn't officially exist.

"Doubtful," Anders demurred, watching Theron's delicate fingers as he pulled a cigarette out from the breast pocket of his waistcoat.

"Light?" Theron asked, holding the cigarette loosely between two fingers, angling it towards Anders when he pulled out a lighter and flicked the wheel. "Thanks." He put the lit cigarette to his lips and took a long drag, exhaling through his nose.

"So why am I going to want to kiss your feet?" Anders asked, propping his elbow up on the table, cupping his chin, only half as bored as his posture suggested.

"Mmm, you might want to buy me champagne too. The good stuff." Anders shook his head, but his eyes were trained on Theron's fingers as he undid the top button of his high collared shirt. Under the starched cotton Anders could see the scar across his neck, the one that told the unmistakable story of surviving a slit throat. Without answering Anders' question, Theron reached up and pulled a half dozen bobby pins out of his bun, shaking out his hair and finger-combing it as it fell.

"Are you moonlighting as a maître d'?" Anders asked, eyeing his outfit again.

"A valet, actually." Theron slipped his fingers into his pocket and brought them out with a set of car keys. He tossed them onto the table with a clatter. "Black Volvo with out-of-state plates and a truly vile air freshener shaped like woman in a hula skirt." Anders raised a brow. "It belongs to your mark," Theron explained. "Orsino, correct?"

"Lower your voice!" Anders hissed, glancing rapidly around to see if anyone was watching them.

"You're terrible at this," Theron said, though there was no judgment in his voice, just gentle amusement. "It's parked between a red Jeep and a white Accord, just to the left of the emergency exit."

"Why do you do this?" Anders asked. This was far from the first time that Theron had intervened on one of his cases, and it certainly wouldn't be the last time he completely outclassed him.

"Gotta keep busy, you know?" Theron flicked the growing ash into an empty glass. "But that's not what's going to have you on your knees, praising me," he purred, and Anders raised his brows. "Your mark knows who you're working for. In fact, he's going to meet her tonight."

"Shit," Anders growled. "My contact lied to me." Theron nodded, his expression sympathetic.

"He's planning on killing her, too," Theron said with a dramatic sigh, stubbing his cigarette out in the glass, eyeing Anders as he pulled out his cell phone to make a call. Theron touched his hand gently and pushed it to the table.

"I need to warn my client, and how the hell do you know this?" he hissed.

"I sold him the gun," Theron said with a shrug, removing his hand.

"You _what_?!?"

"Which is why I know he won't succeed," Theron said firmly, narrowing his eyes at Anders' angry outburst. "The gun will jam, might even backfire, and at about..." Theron lifted his arm to check his watch. "Eleven pm, the local PD is going to get a call about a domestic disturbance, and your mark will be picked up in the middle of an attempted murder, with a gun registered to his name."

For a moment, Anders just sat stunned, staring at Theron. Six months of work and his case would be closed, his mark caught, his client safe, and if Theron's information about the gun was correct, his client wouldn't have to worry about him any time soon. Anders reached across the table, grabbed Theron's head, and pulled him into a bruising kiss. For once, Theron wasn't three steps ahead of him. He made a startled noise and knocked over the glass full of ashes, but once he realized what Anders was doing, he was receptive, slipping his tongue past Anders' lips.

"So," Anders said with an awkward grin. "How about that champagne?"

"I'm in the penthouse suite at the Beverly Hilton," Theron said, smiling coyly though his cheeks were flushed. "Tell them you have a personal invitation from Mr. Grey, and they'll give you a key." Theron stood, leaving the handful of bobby pins from his hair. "They serve the champagne chilled with crystal stemware. Wildly expensive, of course, but I think I've earned it, don't you?"

"But I'm not kissing your feet," Anders said, still grinning as Theron laughed, the sound beautiful over the smoke and the tuneless jazz. As he watched him walk away, he picked up one of the bobby pins and twirled it in his fingers, thinking he might just be lying about the kissing.


End file.
